The Game
by blindspottedllama
Summary: [Jeller] Jane wins the game of return to normalcy. Epilogue to Progression. Post 4x10. One-shot.


a-n: this is what happens when you combine lurkingwhump's request for a progression epilogue where Jane goes home and indelibleevidence's challenge for Jeller smut. not my usual writing journey, yet it was fun to attempt.

* * *

Staying in the apartment was monotonous. Jane gave herself one-thousand points for making it from bed to the couch. One-hundred for pouring a bowl of cereal. Another one-hundred for staying awake long enough to bring the empty bowl to the sink. Rich sent texts checking in on her current score and offered encouragement if she was low. If she hit his goal, he promised to sneak her out for her beverage of choice. Yet she let him keep moving the target; if she collected, she'd need to find a new way to pass the time.

She nursed herbal tea, staying away from her usual coffee so as not to provoke lingering headaches. She tallied the headaches on her phone to share them with her doctor when the time came. Or if her husband asked, it would be a better record keeper than her flooded memories. Giving him a firm answer rather than fumbling would give him one less thing to worry about.

Her body carried a dull ache of getting used to activity again. She attempted a few sit-ups, leg lifts, and wall sits, yet she tired easily, napping on the couch. Any place was good for a catnap these days. She'd woken up on the floor a few times, reminding herself that forethought to maneuver somewhere softer would provide more respite.

Kurt continued his pattern of letting her set her own boundaries, and she had kept herself confined to the apartment, knowing she'd be exhausted by the bottom of the stairs. He took care of everything she couldn't, making sure she was fed and comfortable, draping a blanket and sneaking a pillow under her head wherever she fell asleep. Holding her whenever she needed a welcoming place to decompress. Reminding her that being home was enough progress; the rest would come.

On a particularly hard day, she couldn't bring herself to leave the floor nestled in the dark hole between the nightstand and his side of the bed. Every time she moved, more memories came rushing back of Remi enjoying horrible mischief. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, curling in upon herself and resting her aching head on her knees. Kurt massaged her neck from his seat on the floor in front of her, silently waiting to pull her from its depths. He offered her soup and a warm bath, yet she declined, keeping to her cowering spot. He stayed beside her, his lap offering her head a soft place to land when she tired, and he stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

A few days in, he walked into the office to Jane doing squats. After a week, he found her on the balcony with her yoga mat, navigating a routine engrained in her mind through years of practice. Days later, he discovered her doing stairs in the hallway. "One-million points?" he joked, standing on the landing.

She climbed back up to the landing, leaning against the wall beside him. "You know about the game?" she realized.

"Rich keeps me up to date on the scoreboard," he admitted.

"I'm kicking his ass," she beamed with pride.

"Of course you are. Maybe one day you'll collect," he hinted at leaving the building.

He knew she needed space to make mistakes in testing her limits. He jumped the day a thud came from the office, and he found Jane sprawled on the floor. It scared the crap out of him, his thoughts jumping on zebras back to the hospital until he caught her smile and head shake. "Tried burpees," she explained, raising her head from her mat, "not such a good idea."

Another day, her soft curse of "fuck" from the other end of the apartment clued him in that something was wrong. He found her fully clothed in the tub, trying to rub the pain out of her head. Her knuckles gripping the edge whitened in attempt to transfer her discomfort. She told him the confined space was calming, and she'd be out soon. When he asked her if she needed anything, she repeated she'd be out soon.

He held her each time she woke with a start from a nightmare, not pressuring her to talk, yet there to catch any demons that escaped. She assured him she was okay, and he kept her in his arms, making sure she would be. Kisses and aimless touches followed the hugs until one of them succumbed to sleep.

The afternoon she tried to cover him when she found him snoozing with a book in his living room chair, he woke and reached for her. She surprised him by straddling his lap and meeting him with an unhurried strain of kisses feathering his lips that stirred how much he missed her intimacy. "My wife," he murmured, bonding forehead to forehead, "my amazing wife."

Soft kisses turned into her tongue pushing into his mouth, one arm unzipping his sweatshirt and snaking under the back of his t-shirt and the other playing in the vee. Her kisses spoke of longing to reconnect, to entwine so closely that the thought of losing each other would never be fulfilled. Lingering sandalwood swept into her nose as she nuzzled his neck, creating a trail from his nape to his chest.

He welcomed her leisurely exploring and taking control of where she was up to going; the same leeway she'd shown him when he'd been hurt before. She laid out the map when she rocked against him, seeking friction and teasing a path to nude. The route clear, he playfully snuck his head under her sweater, kissing her sternum, then pulled her tank top under her breast, replacing the cloth with his eager hand. His tongue lavished her nipple to a bead, and she gasped when he sucked, grinding into him. Every movement of her hips rubbing against him antagonized the bulge in his sweatpants.

She fluttered in his lap while he alternated licking and kneading her nipples, and with every press of his hard-on she knew she wanted more. The throbbing between her thighs demanded to be touched without the layers of material between them. "Let's move," she suggested.

Sliding his arms under her ass, he vaulted them from the chair, and she hooked her legs around his waist. She giggled when he didn't remove his head from her sweater, needing her directions of "left, left, more left! Forward…" and several bouts of knocking into things before pitching her onto the bed and following on top of her. The escapade was vaguely reminiscent of her time spent blind, yet this round involved much more laughing.

"You ever going to come out of there?" she teased, his head still lost under her sweater.

His head reappeared, his eyes telegraphing a puckish gleam. "Oh, to go here?" he joked back, hooking his fingers under the waist of her yoga pants and pulling them down her legs with her panties.

His playful nature reminded her of sex when they were silly with overtiredness into the witching hour. Except it was the middle of the afternoon and they were only high on the promise of the moment, seeking a closeness that had been missing since they had come home. His cheeky smile stoked her bud as much as his fingertips meandering her thighs.

He focused his attention on her hip bones, trailing kisses between them and her mound, funneling her want. "Yes, please," she requested, threading her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her clit, knocking at her folds with his tongue, her legs falling to the bed to let him in. One hand split time between her breasts, tweaking and massaging her nipples in response to the rise in her hips. The other brushed the inside of her thigh in anticipation of joining his mouth.

Tendrils of warmth grew through her stomach, building with each sweep of his tongue against her clit. "Kurt," she coaxed, any semblance of request lost in a low moan.

He lapped softly, humming, and her hands twined into the sheets, writhing for purchase. Her hips bucked, meeting his mouth, his slick fingers slipping in and out, in and out until she split in jolts of gratification, riding the high of electricity flowing through her, reminding her of her renewed life.

She didn't wait for the tingling waves to stop before demanding, "I want to kiss you," and pulling on his hair.

He returned to her eye level and kissed her, the languorous movement of his tongue and her taste on his lips further stirring her need. "You're overdressed," she chided, pushing his sweatshirt off his shoulders and pulling his t-shirt over his head.

He returned the action, finally ridding her of her sweater and tank top while she worked his sweatpants and shorts over his hips, freeing his erection. His sigh of pleasure when her fingers wrapped around him carried their renaissance, heightening her arousal. She stroked toward his head, feeling his pulse under her fingertips. A strong beat reminded her he was there and she was fine and oh boy she wanted him. "Hey, turn over," she indicated, pushing at his hip.

She straddled him, one hand wandering in his beard and the other behind him, working his cock to rigid anticipation. His hands returned to her breasts, fondling her nipples to hard peaks surrounded by marshmallowy goodness. "I want you," he insisted, sliding a languid finger across her damp folds.

He held himself while she slid onto him, groaning when he fully entered her warm depths. She paused, their eyes locking in the shared realization that this was yet another thing they didn't know would ever happen again. He caressed her cheek, and she kissed his palm in reassurance that she wasn't a fantasy. She rocked slowly, arching her hips just right to nudge his head in pleasure as she took him in. Hugging under his shoulders, faint ripples of bliss emanated as she moved, nearly losing his cock before fully taking him again.

His fingertips digging into her ass egged her on faster, pushing further upright and bouncing in delight. She braced her hands against his shoulders and rode him, her breaths coming in pants and gasps as she tired from the activity. When her pausing in his shoulder to catch her breath helped him gauge she needed a break, he flipped them, taking over the thrusting. Her thighs quivered, hastened to release by his thumb rubbing her clit in a delicious curl. She needed him, and he knew exactly what motions would fulfill her desires.

She pushed her feet into the bed to meet him thrust for thrust, her hands gripping his ass encouraging him to pound into her harder. If he could, just one more, "Ohhhh."

Her folds spasmed as she came a second time, gripping his length in delightful movements. He lost the rhythm, erratically thrusting a few more times before he launched over the edge, spilling into her. He fell forward onto his forearms, minimizing the weight he transferred to her frame as he collapsed, panting.

The joy of him smushing her in afterglow brought a cheshire smile to her face. Sated, she blanked the time between recovering beneath him and resting on his chest.

When they came down from their high and their breathing returned to normal, he admitted, "I missed this."

"Me too," she said sleepily, a haze of contentment winning out.

"What's this, one-billion points?" he joked, lazily stroking her hair.

A mild chuckle was her only response. Nestled in his shoulder, she fell asleep, exhausted by their coupling.

* * *

When Kurt had to go into the NYO to clear up a few hours of paperwork, he returned with a welcome visitor in tow. "Escape from casatraz?" Rich quipped, offering Jane a fist bump. "I thought I'd come to pay up in person."

Her sidelong smile shared he'd hit home. "Let me get my coat," she indicated, retrieving it from the closet behind them.

"Milady," Rich offered, his elbow stuck out so she could take his arm and venture with him down the stairs.

They caught up at a café down the block, Jane cupping warm hibiscus tea and Rich nursing a coffee. As Rich recounted his past few days at the office, Jane's mind flipped through a handful of Remi's experiences that were tangentially related. Her distant stare out the window for several moments prompted Rich to interject, "holy shit, memories, Batman," drawing her attention back to him with a smile.

She relaxed in his company, getting out of the apartment for the first time since she had come home. At the end of their outing, Jane breathed a frustrated, "There aren't enough points to get me back up the stairs."

"That's what Stubbles is for," Rich teased back, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, "judging by your googly eyes, surely some of your points came from him."

Jane groaned, shaking her head. "Good to see all is well for my favorite power couple," Rich added.

At Rich's heads up, Kurt met them in the lobby and helped Jane back up to their apartment. She'd only been gone an hour, yet he could see days of progress in the smile captured on her face.

* * *

fin


End file.
